To Greet the Morning
by Rose and Thorn
Summary: At the funeral of her family, Susan reflects. Shortish one-shot.


**An:** I liked writing this story ( amazing considering it's Susan-centred) and hope you enjoy reading it. I had to draw upon memories and emotions I had forgotten, so, if you find it emotional (which I hope you do) it's only because it touched me so deeply.

Now, if you like this story, please review. I really do need some feedback on this one.

**Disclaimer****:** Not mine, unfortunately. I borrowed everything from C.S. Lewis.

* * *

The silence was overwhelming. No one moved, no one spoke, no one even sneezed. All eyes, friendly or otherwise, were turned to the slim, black-clad figure in the front pew. This figure was also still, but it was not entirely quiet. A faint sound of sobbing drifted out from under the heavy black veil which shrouded the figure's face.

This was Susan Pevensie.

Sometime socialite and once a queen of Narnia, the young woman who sat with clasped hands was a mere shadow of her former self. She looked neither left nor right, her whole attention riveted upon the five long objects in front of her.

These objects were coffins.

The first two coffins, containing her parents, Susan looked at with a grief so forceful she could barely breathe. These coffins were closed, hiding the charred remains from view. All Susan had were her memories, and, as she sat there, she remembered fiercely.

_" Look, George,"_ she remembered her Mother saying to her father, _" look at Susan's report card. Aren't you proud of her?"_

And, oh! the look of pride which leapt to her father's eyes she remembered so very, very well.

_" That's my girl."_

Tears slid from under the heavy veil and landed on the black skirt.

The third coffin contained a young man, tall and strong, whose face, though cut up and burned on the left side, contained an expression, even in death, of nobleness and fierce love. Only Susan could now testify to his unfailing tenderness, his protectiveness, his winning nature, his _magnificence_. As she gazed upon his peaceful and untroubled face, she remembered a time, long ago, when those blue eyes were open, smiling kindly, encouraging her wordlessly. A pang struck the young women's heart as she remembered a time when this brother of hers wore a crown of gold, when he ruled a kingdom of talking animals and strange creatures wisely and well, when he lived to see his twenty-eighth birthday. It was with something of a shock that Susan remembered Narnia hazily, not as some silly story, but as something real. Something to cling to.

Blinking rapidly, Susan's gaze shifted to the fourth coffin. Smaller than the others, this coffin contained the body of a young girl. This girl's face was so sweet, so open and vibrant, that it did not surprise Susan to see a small smile tugging at the corners of the girl's lips. She looked as if she had suddenly discovered some happy secret or fulfilled some life-long dream. An image of Lucy, surrounded by adoring animals and laughing merrily, came to Susan's mind. Gazing upon the silent face before her, Susan could not help weeping; not for Lucy, but for herself. To be left behind was so hard - so very hard. Again Narnia came to Susan's mind, this time in the form of whirling colours, red and gold. A lion's roar sounded in the young woman's ears.

_Be at peace, my child._

Susan shook her head, willing the voice to leave her, and turned her attention to the fifth and final coffin: Edmund's. It was hard for Susan to look at this coffin, so bruised and burned was the face and body of the corpse it contained. Reports had surfaced which claimed that the young man, barely nineteen, had seen the train approaching and had used his own body as a sort of shield, trying to save the life of his only brother. It was very like Edmund, reflected Susan, to be so self-sacrificing. She recalled another time when he had done the same for Peter. Lowering her eyes, Susan remembered a young Edmund bleeding to death on a battlefield. All the emotions of that time returned to her, and, for a moment, she forgot where she was. Peter and Lucy where suddenly beside her, Edmund's head was in her lap, and she was watching, once more, as a drop of red cordial was poured into her younger brother's mouth. She remembered his shy smile. She remembered the joyful exclamations of her two other siblings. She remembered the tremulous beatings of her own heart. For a moment - just a moment - Susan was in Narnia once more.

The minister shut his bible and descended from the pulpit. He gave Susan a pitying glance as he and a deacon moved to close the lids of the coffins. Susan sat quietly, still lost in her memories. It was only when the coffins were being carried from the Church that she started and rose from her seat. She drew the veil back from her face and turned to follow the coffins.

The Susan which left the Church that day, to bury her family, was _not_ the Susan England knew. The Susan which left the Church was determined and unafraid. This Susan was not plain Susan Pevensie - this Susan was Queen Susan the Gentle. A Queen who carried the love of her family and the light of Aslan in her heart.

* * *

Please tell me your opinion!


End file.
